Reversed
by hunterintrenchcoat
Summary: What if the characters are "reversed"? Alex is the bartender and Desmond is the infected. What is going to happen? [Human!Alex/Infected!Desmond]
1. Prologue - Voices over the music

_So...yes. I know you're confused and after reading this you'll be even more confused. At least I hope I will intrigue you! As I said in the summary, this is a real strange __**Human!Alex/Infected!Desmond**__ fanfiction, character are kind of "reversed" (got it? ahahah okay sorry) so there's a lot of __**OOC**__. Alex is a bartender in discos and Desmond got infected by the Blacklight virus. That's it, I don't want to tell anything else because everything will be explained by the characters during the story, so don't worry about that, you will understand! Hope you will enjoy it.  
As always I want to remember you that I'm not english, so if there are some mistakes I'm sorry!_

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The music was really loud, probably even louder than the other nights, and it made the whole club tremble under the great beat of the song. Nice song actually, Alex thought, as he tapped is feet and lightly swung his hips following the rhythm while he was making a drink for the handsome man in front of him, who was lazily looking around. The guy was definitely good-looking but didn't seem interested at all, so he simply gave him the glass full of alcohol with a wide smile and looked at him while he returned to the dancing floor and began to dance with an apparently drunk chick: he was right, definitely not interested.

He sighed, returning to his succession of mixer, bottles and glasses, without stopping winding his ass side by side and simulating the beat of the song with his voice, which wasn't even perceptible over the high sound of the music. He poured some vodka in a small glass and dropped it down his throat with a sharp movement of the wrist: he winked his eyes at the strong taste and burning sensation of the alcohol but immediately after he felt definitely better. That could have been the fourth glass, he thought, trying to remember how many of them he had drunk during the night. He ran his hand through his dark and messy hair, feeling them tickle his forehead, and sighed again.

The lights went down and the crowd exulted: the top of the night. The most famous and favorite song, a real wild one, resounded in the whole club: the volume was high and people were dancing like crazy. The dark was thick, seeing things was hard and it could only be possible in the short instants of colored light that the strobes shot. Alex leaned his head back, closing his eyes and enjoying the song: he would have begun to dance, had he been alone, he wasn't really good at it and he didn't want people to see, so he just snapped his fingers in time to move something at least.

The song was driving everyone mad when it abruptly lowered to the minimum volume. Completely bewildered, Alex didn't even have the time to think that...he heard it.

"Alex!"

He instantly opened his eyes and straightened his head as he felt his blood freeze in the veins. It was far, really far, but he clearly heard it. He could still hear the song but it was much more low, barely audible over the dull silence that now dominated the surroundings. The world seemed to be in slow motion around the bartender, who tried to understand if he had really heard it or just imagined it.

"ALEX!"

He heard it again, sharply closer, so close that it made him jump on his feet. He looked around, trying to understand where it came from, as he tried to stop his hands from shaking uncontrollably. Breathing became hard as he now felt much more the stagnant air of the dancing floor. He braced himself to the counter and closed his eyes trying to focus and calm himself down. How could that voice know his real name? Did they finally find him? What would have happened then?

-James? Hey man, you look like shit, are you feeling alright?- a man asked with loud voice to be heard, placing a hand on his shoulder and shaking it lightly.

Alex opened his eyes again and suddenly the song and the lights were back. He turned towards the voice that called him and found his associate, Gordon. But the thing that captured his attention first was another man, who was sitting right in front of him, dressed in black, his face covered by a hood: he didn't remember he was there before the "accident" and he couldn't even tell when or how he came there. He was holding a glass of amber whiskey and it was still full. Who gave it to him? He hadn't served whiskey to anyone that night...and he was the only bartender there.

However he didn't payed him much attention since he was more concerned in regain his senses completely and breathe properly.

-Yeah, I think.- he quickly answered to Gordon, trying to wash that event away.

He stretched his hands, feeling them irritatingly prickle: his palms were white, sign that he had gripped the marble of the counter definitely too hard.

-You're paler than the cleanest white sheet I've ever seen in my whole life, dude. You sure you don't want a break?- Gordon asked again, worried by his unnatural paleness, he had never ever seen a man go pale like that.

-I'm fine.- Alex sharply cut off as he took another nip of vodka and dropped it down.

He slammed the glass on the counter with such force that he almost broke it into pieces. What the fuck was that? Did he just imagine it all? Damn, when did he last take his pills? He couldn't even remember and...worst thing, he couldn't take it while he was at work: the last time hadn't ended well and the boss had almost fired him because he had been wondering around the whole club like a retard, so confused he had almost begun to rave. The simple thought of doing that again made him sick, so he just decided to hold on and resist the best he could. That couldn't have been so difficult to do.

Well, at first it was easy: thinking of something else, focusing on the music, making (and maybe drinking) cocktails of every kind, at first these things seemed to be enough. But after an hour or so he couldn't stop his thoughts, that invaded his mind like water out of a dam: what if instead that voice was real? And someone actually found him? What if that "someone" was hostile? And he was blocked there without way out? His heart skipped a beat at those thoughts and then began to race furiously, making him pant hard. His whole body began to tremble and his legs struggled to hold his weight: the lack of breath made his sight go blurry and the surroundings around him twist like a bloody roller-coaster. He was seconds away from fainting (or, maybe worse, from freaking out), he knew that, it wasn't the first time. He needed those fucking pills, right then.  
-I think your mate is right.- the man dressed in dark was still there, his glass was still full.

That made Alex even more nervous than he already was. His face was still shadowed by his hood and the only thing visible of his face was his mouth, lightly moving as he spoke.

-You should get a break...- the man said again, leaning forward to face the bartender, who was laying against bottle shelves. -...Alex.

He never ran so fast.

Somehow he managed to reach the back-door and get into the staff's locker room, trying his best to remain conscious as the darkness fought hard against his resistance. He breathed hard as he looked for his black jacket, big challenge since his sight went more and more indistinct. When he found it, he frantically ransacked the pockets until his hand drew out a small bottle full of pills. With shaking hands, he opened it and took out a handful of pills, maybe three or four all at once, and swallowed them all. It could have been too late since his body began to go limp and he collapsed on his shaking knees (by that time all his body was trembling), trying his damned best to stay awake, but his brain's commands couldn't reach the destination.

Then blackout was inevitable.


	2. Chapter 1: Being chased

_Finally. I had huge problems with this chapter because I didn't know how to finish it, so sorry if the ending is poor. Didn't have the inspiration. I hope you will at least like the rest._

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The first traces of light pierced his eyes as he slowly opened them, burning feelings made him wink them immediately as thick pain irradiated up to his head. He got huge vertigo and a sharp pain to his knees which meant: bad fall.

He was lying on his right hip and all he could remember was a nightmare in which he was being chased and tried to run away, but his legs were numb and he couldn't do anything but crawl: he wasn't surprised at all, he dreamed that so many times he was almost accustomed to it.

The second thing he noticed was a voice, distant, but constantly coming closer: a female one and it seemed really worried. It took him a while to understand that it was calling him, fortunately by his false name.

-James? James?! Wake up! Wake up!- a rough shake followed, making him blink a couple of time to get accustomed to the annoying neon light.

He finally opened his eyes and looked around: everything was back to normal. Well, not everything: his muscles were oddly relaxed, he had to make big efforts to move them properly. At least he was finally loose. He looked at the woman who was calling him, but he couldn't recognize her: she was casually dresse, long mahogany hair covered her shoulder and her green eyes were locked to his face.

-Thank God, you're finally awake! I was starting to get really scared, jesus...- she seemed relieved as she placed a hand on her chest.

Alex finally remembered her: she was Melissa, the maintenance operator of the club. It took him definitely too long to process that, sign that the pills were having effect on his system, slowing it down.

-What...what happened?- he spluttered, even speaking was a little difficult since his brain was at idle speed.

-I found you here on the floor like five minutes ago. You didn't respond, I was fearing the worst!- she sighed. -Do you want me to call an ambulance?-

Alex got the meaning of the question some seconds later and then blanched and struggled to get on his feet. He couldn't go to the hospital, they needed information and that meant he could get tracked. No way.

-No, no...I just need to go...go home.- he clung to the bench nearby to get up and gain some balance.

He reached up and grabbed his gray hoodie and black jacket, putting them on, holding on the wall to stay up and not fall.

-How will you manage to get home like this? You can't even stand on your feet!- Melissa reasoned, holding him by the arm to help him.

-I will take a taxi...please, I have to go...- Alex quickly said, struggling to get rid of the situation.

The woman frowned, not understanding why he was behaving like that, but the question quickly disappeared from her mind as soon as the man began to stagger towards the door. He opened it and got out, hanging on the railing of the few stair that get to the alley behind the disco. Melissa followed him, wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held him by his hip.

-Don't do that...I'm heavy...- the bartender reasoned, more because he felt uncomfortable to have her hands on his body.

-You can't get to the street alone, just let me help you and call a taxi, okay?- the brunette said, receiving a nod in return.

She brought him to the main street and waited for a taxi to appear: when it came up, she made a sign to the driver to make him come closer to the sidewalk.  
-Have you got enough money?- she asked to Alex then.

The dark-haired male looked at her a little confused before fumbling inside his jacket: he felt bills and coins with the fingers, it could be enough. He nodded with a weak smile as the woman helped him to sit on the seat once the car door was open. He sat and abandoned himself against the seatback, closing his eyes in relief as his legs completely relaxed.

-James?- she called, shaking lightly his arm until he opened his eyes again. -Are you sure about this? Are you going to be ok?-

-Yes...don't worry...I'm just tired...- and maybe a little drunk too, what a great mix.

-Okay, just let me know when you're home, you know my number right?- she asked, ready to handle him his business card if it was needed.

He just nodded even if it wasn't true, he wouldn't have called anyway; Melissa managed a little smile through the worry she felt and closed the car door, waiting for the vehicle to leave.

-A bit drunk are we?- the driver asked as he turned completely to face Alex, resting his arm on the front passenger seat.

He was a black guy with a straw hat and a friendly attitude: in fact his tone didn't seem malevolent, so the bartender didn't worry much.

-Might be...don't worry...I'm not gonna give problems...- Alex slightly said, raising his hands a bit.

-Easy man, I'm not troubled. You definitely don't seem a guy who will give problems.- the man said again with a smile. -So, where are we goin', sir?-

-Downtown. Just leave me at the port.- the other male just said, he didn't want to gave his address.  
-Uh, bad place, huh?- the car started and left.

Yes, definitely. His house was in an isolated place, at the industrial port: actually there wasn't much trouble, just some assholes once in a while that used to come, shoot here and there and make some noise; nothing serious but enough to scare Alex to death. Yet it wasn't the stupidity of some hooligans, it was the darkness and emptiness of the place that made him feel uncomfortable...and paranoic; and yet again he needed an isolated zone, so it would have been harder for them to find him. It was a difficult situation but he could only blame himself for that.

-When you don't have a lot of money...it's enough...at least I have a roof to sleep below.- Alex said, looking out of the window as light ran in front of his eyes.

-That's right indeed.-

The trip was quiet, the driver asked some genuine questions (which Alex quickly answered without giving real information about himself) and then left him in peace. He felt better after a while, his limbs seemed to respond more properly at his commands, but he wasn't really relaxed. He focused on the environment, studying the path to see if the taxi was going to the right place: he didn't want bad surprises. The taxi finally stopped at the port nearby his house and the man had to deal with the problematic taximeter.

-This damn thing.- he cursed as he shook it to get the numbers light up the right way and make them readable. -It's 21$, buddy.-

Alex put an hand in his pocket and pulled out all his money: fortunately he had the right amount to pay him. He gave the bills and coins to him and took the receipt.

-Goodnight man, take care and don't get into trouble.- the driver said and waved once Alex managed to get off the car and say goodbye in return.

The wheels skidded a little and the taxi disappeared in the distance. The bartender was finally left alone to face the darkness of that place: he drew out a small dagger from the sheath tied on his right ankle under the jeans. He held it backwards with the blade against his wrist to hide it and then began to slowly walk towards his house. It was a bad habit he acquired with months of "run away", "stay alert", "be careful", "don't be unprepared". Mostly the last one indeed. He focused on his legs to stand up the best he could and reach his house: he went down an alley to venture into the block, more and more.

He was wondering about what happened some time before, while he was close to get home, when he felt there was something wrong. He began to go down different alleys, turning left and right the quickest he could, as he suddenly felt the presence of someone behind him. His heart began to furiously pound in his chest, so hard he could barely hear his own footsteps, and he quickened his pace. Then he abruptly turned left, turning immediately around and bringing the dagger up in front of him, the blade now menacingly leaning forward.

He was panting hard, carefully checking every corner of the alley in front of him, but nothing came up; maybe he was really paranoic. He sighed, putting the dagger back to the original position and then turned around again to get back home.

-Good evening Mercer.-

His heart literally jumped up his throat (it even hurt for the sudden scare), making him almost choke on his own breath, and his legs failed to hold him: he fell on the ground, sending the dagger two meters away from him. He looked up to see the man who scared him to death and was now darkly laughing: he couldn't see him since he was out of the street lamp range, but he was sure as hell he would have gave him problems. He knew his surname and god knows what else he knew.

-W-who the f-fuck are you?!- he yelled, crawling backwards to reach his dagger.

-Don't.- the other simply ordered as he saw what Alex was trying to do, making the said male freeze to the spot.

The silence was thick, well, not for the bartender, whose heart was hammering right in his ears: he was still panting hard, the scare really grounded him.

-A-answer me.- he said, flattening himself to the concrete.

The dark figure didn't answer, he simply leaned forward, letting the lamppost enlighten him.

_What the fuck._

That was the only thing Alex could think, because the man standing in front of him was the same from the bar. He hadn't imagined him: same scar on his lips, same amber skin, same light white hood, same fucking frightening look. Panic flooded his veins, reducing his breathing even more as his chest began to close.

-What the hell do you want from me?!- he screamed straightaway in a single breath.

-Your help.- the guy simply said.

Well, that definitely surprised him.

-My...my help?- Alex repeated, trying to slow down his heart beat and focus on the situation. -What f-for?-

-You have a doctorate in genetics, right?- the man sneered, looking straight at him.

The bartender blinked a couple of times as his brain began to formulate thoughts over thoughts, sending his whole system to overload. How the hell did he know that? And where did he found that information? Fuck, he knew he had something to do with Gentek. He sprinted backwards, reaching his dagger and directly pointing him against the man.

-Now...now you fucking tell me...how do you know that and...what the fuck you really want from me.- he ordered, slowly standing up and trying to stop his hand from shaking uncontrollably.

-You're not really convincing, you know?- the hooded man said, noticing his apparent shaking, and laughed again. -But okay, let's play this. You want to know where I found this information? Well, I have my informers.-

-Who are they?-

-Not the men you're thinking of, if you were thinking of Gentek.-

Alex's heart skipped a beat again at that name. Hell he was right, that was it. He was up to his neck into the mess. He had to think, fast. He couldn't run away, that bastard knew where he was, so he couldn't even let him go. Should he kill him?

-I need your help.- the other male repeated again.

Okay, fine, let's listen to this.

-And I ask you again...what for?-

The man simply walked forward, making Alex move back to keep the distances, until he was completely under the light and opened his arms: something like tendrils, made of muscle tissue, erupted from his skin and carefully slid on his arms for some seconds, before retracting again under the skin.

That was where Alex literally froze to the spot. Not a sound, not a blink, not a move, not even a shake. He was completely shocked, more because he knew what the hell it was: the Blacklight virus. The last time he saw...that thing...was six months ago; and it didn't end well.

-I'm stuck into this.- the man began. -I don't know how to control it. How to get rid of it. People out there just want me dead and no one can help me except you.-

His tone had strangely changed a bit, it seemed almost pleading, as he was trying to get Alex's trust or something like that. The bartender was then really confused and didn't know what to do, but he surely wouldn't have lowered the knife: he still wasn't sure if the man in front of him was hostile.

-Your name.- he simply ordered, raising his chin in a sign of (apparent) dominance.

-Desmond Miles.- the other man immediately answered as he felt Alex's discomfort. -I'm not gonna hurt you, unless you do something wrong.-

The dark-haired understood that he had no choice. That man surely needed his help, but he perfectly knew the virus' behavior: unpredictable. One wrong move and he could disappear from the fucking face of the world. He finally got to the conclusion that he should have done what that man wanted him to do. It was even a bit convenient to him, at least he didn't need to run away, change location again, kill someone or a lot of other things. Maybe.

-Okay, fine...what do I have to do now?- he asked, finally lowering the blade without putting it away though.

-First I need a place to stay.- Desmond said, cocking an eyebrow, sending a message straight to the other man.

-Oh come on...you don't actually believe that I will...-

-I actually do think that.-

The two men looked at each other for a long time, Alex trying to think of a different solution (he didn't want that man in his own house, it was already scary like that, he didn't need an infected man in addition) and Desmond trying to persuade the man by threateningly staring at him. The bartender figured out the same thing: he had no choice. Desmond's way or a lot of problems.

-Okay, fine!- he finally yelled, throwing the hands up. -But there are some rules...first one, don't draw the attention here...second one: don't reveal our location...third one: don't bring anyone here...got it?-

Desmond nodded and then followed Alex as he headed towards his house.


End file.
